Chapter 36 - Ran Away to Sea by Mayne Reid
I had observed before starting, that the barque had got up her anchor and was slowly gliding down stream. At intervals I turned a little out of my way and came close to the edge of the water, to make sure that she was not getting ahead of me; and then I would glide back into the path, which ran parallel with the stream, but at several yards’ distance from the bank.
Guiding myself thus, I advanced at about the same rate as the vessel was going, and every now and then had her under my eye through the openings in the trees.
I had no difficulty in making her out, for, contrary to the wish of the slave-captain, the night was a bright one, with a clear moon coursing through a sky that was without a single cloud.
Slowly as sailed the barque, it was just as much as I could do to keep up with her. Had the path been open there would have been no difficulty—but there was in reality no path at all, only a track made by wild animals, which here and there was closed up above with trailing vines and creeping plants, that stretched from tree to tree and hindered my rapid advance. Though beasts could go under these natural bridges without impediment, a human being had to crouch under or climb over, and all this required time. There were so many of these obstructions that I was greatly delayed by them, and found it just as much as I could do to keep square with the vessel constantly moving onward. I knew that I must get a good way ahead of her, so as to choose a place for taking to the water and swimming out to her as she passed down. As the river grew wider near its mouth I was likely to have a long swim for it.
Several times I was terrified by the appearance of wild beasts, whose forms I could just distinguish in the obscurity that reigned under the shadows of the trees. I saw several kinds, and some of immense size that went crashing through the underwood as I came suddenly upon them. These must have been either rhinoceroses or the large hippopotamus—I could not tell which under the shadows—but whichever they were, they ran off at my approach. I might have feared them more than I did, had it not been that a greater fear was upon me. I feared to hear the voices of King Dingo Bingo and his black guards behind me. I feared this more than anything; and at intervals I stopped upon the path and listened.
But indeed they would need to have been near for me to have heard them. The forest was filled with other sounds, and only a very loud noise could have been heard above the general chorus. There was the shrill chirrup of cicadas and tree-crickets, the hoarse croaking of toads and frogs—some of these as loud as the routing of a bull—there was screaming of cats, the barking of jackals, and the chattering and howling of monkeys. A perfect chorus of discordant sounds produced by the barque moving down the river, and no doubt partially by my own passage through the underwood. One kind set the other a-going, and the alarm and consequent noises proceeding from it spread to a far distance through the forest.
I thought it less probable that I should be followed through the woods, than down the stream itself. When missed, a canoe was most likely to be brought into requisition—perhaps the royal galley itself, with his majesty to guide the pursuit. They would remember that I had disappeared just at the moment the barque weighed anchor, and would suspect that I had gone aboard at once. It was far more likely, therefore, the search would be made upon the water, and the pursuers would paddle their craft directly for the barque. Under this belief I gave uneasy glances up the river, whenever I could command a view of it. As yet no pursuers appeared.
Another consideration troubled me. The Kroomen had gone to the river’s mouth to watch the movements of the cruiser and report whether she had launched any boats. Now these fellows were entirely in the interest of King Dingo. They might see me as I swam to the barque, and, taking me into their boat, carry me back to the factory. They had been present when the bargain was made, and knew all about it. I must, therefore, look out for their boat and avoid it.
With such thoughts and resolves passing through my mind, I once more marked the progress of the vessel and, diving into the underwood, kept on.
At length I reached a point where there was a bend in the river. It was not far from its mouth. Beyond this place the stream widened into a sort of bay.
It would not do for me to go beyond. I should have too long a swim for it; besides, the barque was about being got under sail—her canvas was already loose; and once the sails were sheeted home, they would catch the wind and carry her rapidly through the water—so rapidly that I might not be able to get aboard.
I had gone far enough. I had reached the point where it was best for me to take to the water; and, flinging off my shoes and most of my clothing, I stepped down to the water’s edge and plunged in.